Wednesday, November 6, 2013


      Once in awhile, what I intend as verse
      Ascends to poetry in some mysterious way:
      While praying for the Muse to please disburse
      A line or image that will help me say
      Whatever it may be that wants to come,
      It suddenly befalls from who knows where,
      Alighting in my consciousness, once dumb
      But now apprised of something it can share.
      Though this is not an instance of that gift
      And must be thought a practice run at best,
      Perhaps on my next try I‘ll get a lift
      And by a passing vatic breeze be blessed.
           My attitude must be that altitude
           May be invoked, but cannot be pursued.